


Fuzzy Logic

by TheUndeadBegonia (MagnoliaAnaglypta)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-30 22:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnoliaAnaglypta/pseuds/TheUndeadBegonia
Summary: In which Janeway makes an unexpected (and improbable) confession and Paris unconsciously imitates a small red character with claws in The Little Mermaid...Set just after Pathfinder





	Fuzzy Logic

 

 

By the time the party started to wind down, Katherine Janeway was feeling tired but decidedly mellow.   Perhaps it was the wine - the real thing for a change  (none of your synthehol rubbish) replicated especially for the occasion by Neelix - or perhaps it was simply the passage of time, but the state of near-euphoria that had been with her ever since the unexpected message from Starfleet was at last starting to wear off.

 

She still felt too restless to sleep, but a kind of fuzz was descending over her thoughts and socialising seemed more difficult by the moment.  She concluded that the time had come to make a discrete exit.

 

As she headed for the door, trying not to make her intended departure too obvious,  she noticed that Tom Paris was nowhere to be seen - was in fact the only senior officer not present.   That was unusual since Tom was one of her most gregarious officers and rarely the first to leave a gathering.  She noticed that B'Elanna Torres was still in the room, talking with Harry Kim and three other crewmembers, so Voyager's most infamous couple hadn't simply called it a night and gone to bed.

 

She wondered where Tom was, and found herself worrying about him.  She thought back to the bridge a few hours earlier, when they had all heard Owen Paris express words of pride and affection - recalled Tom's astounded expression and the knot of tension in his slim shoulder.  He'd been quiet and pensive for the rest of his shift, which she did not find surprising.  From what she knew of Tom Paris, he had desired his father's approval and affection all his life, and never received it.   Sometimes, when someone finally got what they had dreamed of for so long, it could seem like more of an anticlimax than closure.  She couldn’t be sure, but the look she had caught in his eyes once or twice since had seemed almost like disappointment.  

 

Somehow, she didn't think Tom would have gone back to his quarters, and Tuvok had the bridge, so she didn't think he'd go back there - if he'd wanted to find a quiet place to think, a command deck presided over by an efficiency minded Vulcan would not be anyone's first choice.   Where would Tom find a deserted and tranquil place to sit in silence on this night of all nights, when the entire ship was buzzing with excitement.  The Delta Flyer?  The Holodeck?   Airponics? 

 

Once she had sidled out of the mess hall without attracting attention, and was alone in the corridor, she asked, "Computer, location of Tom Paris?"

The reply came back at once,  "Tom Paris is in Astrometrics."

 

He was sitting up on the raised deck in front of the main display,  staring up at what to her was an unfamiliar pattern of stars.  She ventured further into the room and made it halfway up the steps to the platform before he registered her presence.  He acknowledged her with a glance and a nod, but didn't say anything.

"I'm surprised Seven isn't here keeping an eye on you," she commented, knowing they were both aware of Seven's proprietary attitude towards Astrometrics.

"The Doctor headed her off at the pass."

Typical of Paris to plan for his solitude and ensure it by enlisting help.  She wondered if she ought to leave, but his tone didn't sound unwelcoming, just very pensive.  A little tentatively, she lowered herself to sit beside him.

 

"What are you looking at?" she asked him after the silence had stretched on just long enough to become awkward.

"Missed opportunities," he replied, a thoughtful, slightly distant aspect to his voice.

"What sector is this?"

"It's just beyond where we lost Kes."

She nodded, understanding.  Kes had thrown them over nine thousand light years in a matter of minutes; nearly ten sectors of space.  While it had put them a full decade nearer to home, it was a vast area of stars, planets, nebulas and who knew what else that they would now never have the opportunity to explore. 

"There's plenty more to see," she reminded him.

"More than a thousand ships could see in a thousand years," he agreed, his voice soft and rather wistful. 

She smiled at the juxtaposition of varying images he presented.  "You’re Starfleet clean through to the bone, Tom."

"In some ways, I guess," he conceded.

"You're more like your father than either one of you would like to admit."

"Dad wouldn’t agree with you.  He always said I was too much like my mother for my own good."

She chuckled, remembering similar comments from her own admiral father.  "Fathers always say that."

"Even to sons?"

"Especially to sons."

 

They sat in companionable silence.

 

"Not thinking about home?"  she probed gently after nearly a minute.

"This is home."  His vague motion around him indicated the ship rather than the space surrounding it.

"It won't always be."

"It will to me."

"Are you regretful that we finally made contact?"  She hadn't really considered that as an option, but it made sense in a way.  Tom had the kind of life here he would never have had back in the Alpha Quadrant.  He was admired, respected and loved, a vital part of their little community.  It must have been difficult to be reminded of what might have been - a life of hopelessness and despair.

"I'm happy, of course I am," he protested.

"But maybe more for the crew than for yourself?"  She tried not to make it sound too challenging.

His shoulders sagged as he gave up his attempt at emotional bravado.

"I guess I am kind of regretful that now my dad knows.  About… you know."

Yes, she knew.  Difficult not to, given the changes that she'd seen happen in him over the past year.  Impossible not to know that she was the cause, and regret that she couldn't have found a better way to deal with it.  She realised with a jolt that she hadn't been keeping that close a track of the time.  Had it really been a whole year since she'd taken his rank?  She hadn't meant it to go on this long.

"It's been a long time now," she thought out loud.  "Feels like yesterday."

"Yes, it does."  His voice was sad but accepting and she realised that to him, it was still an open wound.  "The Doc's trip back home only feels like it was a couple of weeks ago.  I often wonder what he said about me to change my dad's mind so much."

"Didn't you ever ask him?"

He stared at her as if she'd grown an extra head.  "No, of course not!"

She resisted the impulse to smile.  Tom Paris and the EMH.  Talk about an odd couple.   She'd heard the Doctor sing his assistant's praises, but never in Tom's presence.  People did that with Paris a lot, she realised, as if it were somehow easier to express affection for him behind his back than to his face.   As if people were uncertain just how fragile his outward show of strength and composure might be, and were afraid that too personal a declaration might disrupt it.  She was unsure where that perception had originally come from but over the years it seemed to have solidified into accepted fact.  The reality was very different, Tom was one of the strongest, most resilient people she'd ever known.  He'd learned how to bend, and that would keep him from snapping long after most people she knew would be gibbering incoherently in psychiatric facilities.  His flexibility was one way in which he was very different from his father.

"Afraid to hear the truth?" she persisted.

"Maybe a little," he admitted.

"There's no need.  The Doctor thinks well of you."

"He's got a funny way of showing it."

"No more, perhaps, than your father."

That gave him a moment's pause for thought, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, and regretful.

"It just seems sad that the first chance I've had in, well, years, to get a better relationship with my father is going to be undermined before it ever gets off the ground."

"You really think it will make a difference?"

He lowered his gaze and stared at the floor.  "Yeah.  It'll make a difference.  It'll disappoint him all over again and… well, part of me wishes he didn't have to know.  Even if he never says anything, I'll know he knows and it won't be the same." 

He looked so wistful that it wasn't difficult to make the decision to tell him.  "Actually, he won't," she replied, in as conversational a tone as she could manage, wondering how he would react.

"You transmitted the Ship's logs.  Even if he wasn't on the Review Board, he would have been told by now."

"It isn't in the Ship's log.  I didn't make an official entry." 

She watched him closely, interested to see how he would react.  It took him about three seconds and made her want to laugh.  She was sure she'd seen a similar reaction once in one of those cartoons he was so fond of.  She decided she had never seen him look quite so astounded.   It was quite an effort to continue to appear casual and blasé. "Which means, of course, that I also falsely imprisoned you without due process.  When we get back home, you can sue Starfleet.  They can court martial me on your behalf.  Close your mouth, Tom, it's undignified." 

He didn't, so she reached over with one finger and pushed his lower jaw up.

"But… but…  I was there!" he finally managed to squeak.

"The log recorder wasn't running.  I deactivated it before I saw you."

He was too busy blinking like a bedazzled owl to respond to her immediately, so she took the opportunity to elaborate.  "Officially, you never stopped being a Lieutenant.  I simply instructed the ship's computer to refer to you as 'Ensign' instead.  It doesn't care what words it uses in a particular context, It just does what its told.  I didn't remove any of your command privileges or change any of your access levels.  Do you really mean you never tested them?"

He gaped like a fish, his mouth opening and closing for several attempts before he managed to phrase a question.

"It was all a lie?"

She shrugged.  "Think of it as terminological inexactitude."

"Why?  Why bother?"

"With your service record prior to Voyager, you were in a vulnerable position.  You've been a fine officer on this ship and angry as I was with you, I wasn't about to toss your career away.  I had to make an example of you though - not just to discipline you, but to show the crew that I wouldn't tolerate that behaviour, even from my 'personal reclamation project' - which, incidentally, you stopped being a long time ago.  I never intended to tell you, just to re-instate you and forget the whole thing.  But, as usual, nothing ever goes to plan where you're concerned." 

"It's been a year!" he burst out, his tone now more one of indignation than surprise.

"And it'll be a while longer yet.  Changing things now would look too much like a response to making contact with your father.  That wouldn't net either of us any respect."

"I didn't mean that, I meant, no one's let anything slip…  The way rumours travel on this ship…"

"Both Tuvok and Chakotay know how to keep a secret.  I could hardly keep it from them, but they were the only ones who knew."

As usual, Tom's thought processes had gone off at a tangent she hadn't expected. "Tuvok was on that planet with me for four months!  We thought we'd never get off, and he still didn't tell me!"  A distinctly evil glint came into his eyes.  "He's going to suffer for this!"

"Tom…"

"…In the nicest possible way, of course."

She couldn't help but be amused at his immediate hedging to her reaction, and wondered what kind of retribution the Vulcan would be in for.  Part of her had to admit to the tiniest amount of satisfaction at the prospect of her prim and proper second officer (friend though he was) suffering a minor martyrdom at the hands of a creative master like Tom Paris.  She had noticed that Tuvok had overcompensated in the past few months - Paris would probably have interpreted that as 'rubbing it in'. 

However, she still felt the impulse to defend both of her co-conspirators.

"It's been quite hard for them, you know.  Particularly in the first couple of months when you moped around the ship like an abandoned puppy and B'Elanna smouldered at everyone on board and was obviously thinking very Klingon thoughts about what she'd like to do to me."

He looked at her for several long moments, his expression changing to something less indignant and rather more sheepish.

"Did I?" he asked her.

"Did you what?"

"Mope."

"You were intolerable.  You give good guilt."

Something that might have claimed to be a smile flickered across his face.  "I'm sorry.  I wasn't aware of it.  You give good poker face."

"I'm a captain.  That's my job."

He looked a little uncertain.  "So, what happens now?"

 

"I think you should give your Captain a hug and tell her all is forgiven."

He tipped his head slightly to one side, which really did make him look like a quizzical puppy trying to figure out a new sound.  "If you're sure that wouldn't be construed as conduct unbecoming."

She knew he was teasing her, but she really needed the hug.  "I think we can overlook it, this time."

He hesitated for a moment, then gave in with a graceful smile and moved towards her.  Strong arms encircled her, noticeably careful where they were placed, and pulled her into a hug obviously calculated not to give too much of the wrong impression.  She employed similar restraint holding him.  His chin rested momentarily on her shoulder. It was an expression of trust and affection, both of which roused feelings in her too complex to unravel. 

"Is all forgiven?"  he asked her, his tone uncertain and a little fragile.  She mentally reprimanded herself.  It hadn't occurred to her that he might not know that she'd forgiven him his transgressions long ago.  Once, years before, he would not have needed to ask.

"One of your many endearing qualities, Tom, is that it is almost impossible to stay angry with you for long."

He broke contact and jerked back as another thought occurred.

"Damn!  I sent my dad a letter, it's all in there!"

"Letters didn't transmit this time around.  You still have the option to delete it."

He looked like he was tempted, then shook his head.  "No.  I'm not going to lie to him.  I suppose I could edit it, not mention the demotion.   No, I'd better delete it.  It'd only get you in trouble.  I guess if the demotion isn't in the log, neither is the brig time.  But it must be!  Someone's going to notice I wasn't on duty for a month!"

"There are many things in the log far more interesting than your duty shifts, Tom.  I doubt it will ever be commented on."

"And if it is?"

"Let's cross that bridge if we come to it."

His eyes lit up with an idea.  "I can say I was in on it, if anyone asks."

She shook her head firmly. "I won't have you lie to protect me."

"It isn't a lie.  I am in on it."

"But you weren't."

"Then I guess it's all in the phrasing, isn't it?"

She wasn't going to let him fuzzy-logic her into agreeing to let him lie for her.  "I won't have you accused of conspiracy to deceive.  If it comes to it, I will explain what I did and why, and take full responsibility for the consequences."

He opened his mouth to argue with her, and then clearly thought better of it and let it ride.

 

 

"Sometimes a captain has to treat someone unfairly.  It's not in any of the management theory texts they teach you at Academy, but it's an unpleasant truth.  Sometimes politics and management aren't that far apart."

Tom nodded, one of a handful of people on board who had the background to understand her remark.  "Once my father flunked a whole class of students because one of them was late."

She nodded, remembering her own feelings of trepidation the day she had first approached Owen Paris with the idea of him becoming her mentor.  He had had a fearsome reputation and she almost hadn't gone through with it.  "I heard about that."

"Course, he had to re-instate them again the next day or he would have been up in front of the Academic Board, he didn't have the power to do it.  But it sure got their attention.  He said, sometimes you have to do irrational things to keep people from thinking they know you well enough to second guess you."

"It's a philosophy you've obviously taken to heart."

He laughed, a lovely sound to hear again after so long.  "I never really thought about that.  I guess some stuff had to rub off."

 

She moved the conversation back to the subject at hand.

 

"Tom… now that you know, I expect you to behave exactly as if you didn't.  Don't even mention it to Tuvok or Chakotay.  The agreement I made with them was that you wouldn't ever know about it until we were back in the Alpha Quadrant.  We all knew once the files were reviewed you would figure it out, but by then the crew would probably have disbanded, and there would be no reason for them ever to comment.  If this gets out, I'll know where it came from, and then it will go in the log for real.  That's the bargain I'm making with you."

He nodded.  "I understand.  I can do that."

"I know you can.  And when I judge the time has come, I will put things right.  I promise you that."  She switched back out of commanding officer mode and into 'motherly'.  "Now, it's been one hell of a day, 'Ensign', and you've got Alpha shift in the morning."

"So do you."

"Yes, but I can doze in my Ready Room.  Captain's privilege."  She patted his knee.  "Go to bed.  That's an order."

His smile was more genuine than any she'd seen from him in over a year.  "Yes Ma'am."  She hadn't heard him say it that way in just as long; a tone and voice he had always reserved only for her; respectful, teasing and unconsciously flirtatious all at once.  She'd missed it more than she had realised.

 

He scrambled to his feet and made his way down off the platform.  Before he reached the door, he paused, turned, his expression thoughtful again.

"I guess that's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me in my life."

She tried to keep the mood light. "I'm at your mercy now, of course."

"Maybe that just makes it a little more even," he smiled, and then became serious.   "I won't abuse your trust.  Not ever."

"I never thought you would."

She watched him leave Astrometrics, a new spring in his step, and couldn't remember when she'd felt more satisfied, or more at peace with herself.  That wound had been open too long,  and she knew things would be better between them now that it was closed at last.  The ship would benefit as well.  Tuvok of course was another matter, but he was a big boy and could look after himself.

 

She was surprised by a massive yawn, and indulged in a bone-creaking stretch.  For the first time in months, she thought she would sleep well.


End file.
